


solving serious matters in the middle of the night

by ruthvsreality



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Slow Burn, robot!dan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthvsreality/pseuds/ruthvsreality
Summary: “What. Uh. What’s it called, again?”“Deregulated Assistance Network.” Jon reads from the heavy manual that came with it. “It’s supposed to be like Siri, only better.”“Only nothing like Siri,” Lovett points out, “because it’s a fucking person.”(dan/favs, robot!dan au.)





	1. Noon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenopsia (indie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not much but I'm all I have. - Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip

It all starts, as many things in Jon’s life start, at the Crooked Media offices. At noon, on a Tuesday, in Los Angeles, California. The rest of the team all went out for lunch, Tanya’s treat. The three founders of Crooked Media are staring at a large box on the floor. Or, more specifically, what’s in the box.

“It’s a body.” Tommy says.  As if that isn’t completely obvious. Lying there, eyes closed, in a long big box that apparently used to be used to hold a Christmas tree, is a body. Tall, big, broad shoulders. A crisp blue button-down shirt and jeans. Shoes that look to be slightly too big.

“It’s not a body,” Jon protests weakly, “it’s a… ‘humanoid display attachment.’”

“That is a terrifying way to refer to a body.” Lovett comments from his spot at his desk chair. He’s refused to come close to the box since Jon and Tommy opened it after it showed up in the doorway of their office. “You’re sure it’s not alive?”  
  
“I’m sure.” Jon leans down and looks closer. There’s a tiny panel around the body’s wrist that’s very much not human. It’s weird, though. Lovett isn’t being squeamish; the body looks remarkably lifelike. Jon leans down and brushes his fingertips over the body’s face; the skin feels real. There are long paintbrush eyelashes over its eyes. It could be a person. But something seems… off. This isn’t a body that’s dead. It has never been alive.

Jon should stop calling it an _it._ It feels weird to do that. He? Hm. That doesn’t feel right either.

“What. Uh. What’s it called, again?”

“Deregulated Assistance Network.” Jon reads from the heavy manual that came with it. “It’s supposed to be like Siri, only better.”

“Only nothing like Siri,” Lovett points out, “because it’s a fucking person.”

“Right.” Jon points at the small velvet bag on his desk. “That should be the thing to boot it up. Him. Whatever.”

“You sure you want to start this thing?” Tommy leans towards the box. “I mean, are we sure it’s safe? It’s a - a -”  
  
“A robot.” Lovett cuts in. “A fucking robot, like, this is some Jetsons shit. Who gave this to you, again, Jon?”

“Alyssa.” Jon looks at the card on the desk. _To help you with your troubles._ “It was a belated birthday present.” It’s weird. Alyssa’s never given him a present before.

“Seems pretty big for a belated birthday present.” Tommy frowns.

“Well, that -” Jon gestures to the body beneath him, “is just the casing, apparently. Whatever’s in that little bag is apparently the actual… business.”

“The _brain.”_ Tommy says spookily, waggling his eyebrows. Jon gives him a playful shove.

“Well, what do you say we plug it in and see if it does stuff?” Jon shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“It tries to kill us?” Lovett offers. He’s grinning, though, so he’s only teasing.  
“Alyssa wouldn’t give me something like that.” He gestures for Lovett to hand him the little bag.

Inside is a small silver disk, like a miniature CD. it fits in the palm of Jon’s hand. Jon turns it over, and it glints in the light, reflecting little rainbows on the shiny side.

“Where exactly do you put it?” Lovett giggles, before Tommy elbows him.

Jon leans down and presses along the edges of the panel along the body’s wrist, feeling where the soft skin-like texture gives way to a sort of plastic. It’s creepy, but not overly so. Whoever made this… thing clearly put effort into making sure people around him weren’t terrified.

Deregulated Assistance Network. That’s a mouthful.

Jon presses along one edge, and the panel lifts. There’s a small indentation in the same shape as the disk. Slowly, Jon slides the disk into place and closes the panel.

Nothing happens.

“Maybe there’s a button you need to press?” Tommy says, craning his neck to see. Jon’s kneeling down beside the box, his fingertips still on the body’s wrist.

Deregulated Assistance Network. D-A-N. Dan! They should call him that. If he ever wakes up. Which he isn’t doing. There’s no Windows startup sound or anything like that.

“Maybe it’s broken.” Lovett leans back. “Alyssa got you a broken present. I’m so making fun of her for that -”

The body’s eyes open and Jon jumps back with a decidedly unmanly yelp. The body sits up and both Lovett and Tommy tense behind him.

“Hello.” The robot says. “I’m Dan, your personal assistant. How may I help you?”

Jon raises his eyebrows as far up as they can go. “Uh.”

Lovett makes an astute comment from where he’s dashed to the corner of the room: “What the fuck?”

Tommy, who hasn’t moved, leans forward. “You can say that again.”

“I will! What the fuck!”

Jon waves his hand, signaling for everyone to shush. “You said your name is…”

“Dan. Your personal assistant.” The robot - Dan - smiles, displaying neat rows of pearly white teeth.

“Uh. Hi, Dan…” Jon stands, slowly, maintaining eye contact. “What exactly do you… do?”

“I can do many things, but I am primarily a personal assistant. Can I help with something?”

Jon stares at him. It’s remarkable how lifelike he is. Except for a deep feeling of… _nonhumanness,_ he looks remarkably lifelike. If you asked Jon to pick him out of a lineup, he probably couldn’t identify him as the nonhuman.

Somehow that is unsettling in and of itself.

“Uh.” Jon shrugs. “Like, you’re like Siri?”

“I am much more advanced than Siri, but I can carry out similar tasks if that is what you need me to do.”

Lovett takes the ensuing awkward pause to shake himself out of his frightened state. “I - I got a task.” He says. His voice is shaky. “Multiply six by seven.”

Dan turns his head and looks at Lovett. “Forty-two.”

“Now multiply eighty two by three hundred and sixty five.”

“Twenty nine thousand, nine hundred and thirty.” Dan replies smoothly.

Lovett pauses again. Then he goes over to his desk and grabs a notebook and pen. Handing it to Dan with shaky hands, he says, “Draw a torus shape.”

Dan obediently takes the pen and paper and begins to draw. He’s left-handed, Jon notices. Like the president.

“Okay, so he’s a walking calculator.” Tommy says.

“No, he’s not.” Jon grabs the large manual on his desk. When he opens it, the type is miniscule, as if someone tried to fit a dozen encyclopedias into one volume. “It says here that he has the computing power of Watson.”

There’s a pause as they all consider this. Finally, Tommy replies, “the computer from Jeopardy?”

“Yeah.” Jon looks back down at the figure in the box. “Dan?”

Dan continues sketching. “Yes, sir?”

“Ugh.” Jon wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call me that. What else can you do, other than equations?”

“I have been programmed to be as similar to a human as possible, so I am capable of doing many human tasks, including cooking, cleaning, academic research, and transcribing and sorting documents at an efficient speed. I was designed to be especially proficient at language processing, reasoning, knowledge retrieval, and general analysis.”

“That sounds like a lot.” Lovett crosses his arms. “So if I asked you to bake me a chocolate cake…”

“I am capable of looking up a recipe and carrying it out, provided I have the necessary ingredients.” Dan responds. He hands back the pad and pen to Lovett. Jon glances over, and there’s a small doughnut shape sketched neatly in the middle.

“Dude.” Tommy says with a little scoff. “Alyssa gave you Data from Star Trek.”

“She did.” Jon breathes. “Uh, Dan?”

Dan turns and looks up at Jon. “Yes?”

“Stand up, please?”

Dan does so.

“How are you…doing?” Jon is decidedly weirded out.

“I am not capable of human emotion.” Dan responds. His expression has stayed placid this entire time.

“Right. So. I can just… ask you to do things? And you’ll do them?”

“That is my purpose.” Dan nods a little. “To assist, as well as to be a good companion to any human.”

“Do you… like doing that?”

“I have no feelings one way or another. One would not ask a vacuum if it likes sucking up dirt.” Dan shrugs. Jon doesn’t think he’s ever seen a robot shrug before.

“You don’t have any feelings,” Lovett sits in his desk chair, “but you have an attitude.”

“I was programmed to create a facsimile of a personality based on all the humans I have interacted with,” Dan stands up, “so perhaps you are the one who has an attitude.”

That earns a bark of laughter from Tommy. “A robot who tells jokes!” He observes.

“Terrifying,” Lovett observes, “I like it.”

Jon bites the inside of his cheek. “So you’re like… Alexa with a body.”

“Again, I’m capable of carrying out significantly more tasks than Alexa due to my physical casing, but I can do similar things.” Dan turns and looks Jon up and down. Jon has the strange feeling that he’s being scanned. “Is there something I can help with?”

“Not right now.” Jon says.

“If you’re supposed to be better than Alexa,” Tommy asks, “why do you even _have_ a body?”

 _Oh my god, Tommy_ , Jon thinks, _you can’t just ask a robot why he has a body._

Dan doesn’t seem to be offended by the question. “There were sixty-three separate reasons why my creators designed and built me. I can list them if you’d like.”

“That’s fine.” Jon says quickly. “But you’re obviously meant to be…”

“As lifelike as possible.” Dan says. “My creators took great care in that.” It’s the only sentence that Dan’s said so far that sounds soft, almost tinged with emotion. But at the same time, it’s very mechanical - like a computer program singing a lullaby.

“That’s - creepy.” Lovett says. “Are you programmed with those three laws from that book?”

“Asimov’s three laws of robotics were the first rules encoded within me.” Dan replies. “I’m not capable of harming another human.”

“Oh.” Jon squeaks. He didn’t think that was an option. “Okay! Well, Dan - can we call you Dan?”

“That’s my name.” Dan puts his hands behind his back. “Though you can call me whatever you prefer. May I know your name?”

“Jon.” Jon says. “I think it’s time for you to go back in the box for a while. Do you have, like, an off mode?”

“I do.” Dan starts to get back into the box.

“Aw, Jon!” Lovett pouts. “I wanted to see if he’d check my email for me.”

“You can check your email yourself.” Jon shakes his head. “No, I think whatever this thing is - no offense -” he gestures towards Dan, who doesn’t seem offended, “it needs to go back in its box for a little while. I’ll… take it home, I guess, and then I’ll figure out if it’s going to kill us all.”

“I’m not going to kill you all.” Dan says.

“Shut up, Dan. Uh, enter sleep mode.” Jon waves his hand. Immediately Dan lies down and his eyes go back to being lifeless and glassy.

“Why can’t he stay here?” Tommy asks. “We can have him edit the podcast.”

“I feel weird about making him do things.” Jon says. “And I don’t want to have some poor intern find him in the morning. If he’s cool, I’ll… bring him back in, I guess.”

“Find out if he’s fully functional.” Lovett waggles his eyebrows. “Maybe he -”

“I’m ending this conversation. End of ad, etc.”

Tommy looks thoughtful. “This is an interesting idea, though. Imagine how useful a bot like that would have been in the White House. How many times did you wish you could take in information like a computer?”

Lovett gasps dramatically. “What if this was made by the military and they’re trying to design a super soldier?”

“Lovett,” Jon grins, “I don’t think they’d design a super soldier with a bald spot.”

“Maybe it’s a touch of character.” Lovett reasons unreasonably.

“Whatever it is, or he is, he’s going home until I can figure out how he works.” Jon tries to put as much finality in his voice. He doesn’t like the idea of something like this just laying around. Alyssa didn’t specifically mention that this was a secret or anything, but still. Jon’s not planning on telling anybody.

“Who sent this to you again?” Lovett asks.

“Alyssa.”

“I take it she didn’t build the thing herself.”

“No…” Jon grabs the book and turns it over. “Someone named David Axelrod did.”

“Axelrod.” Tommy nods. “Sounds exactly like someone who would build HAL.” He sits up straight. “I’m sorry, Jon, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Shut up, this is from Alyssa. I’m sure it’s safe.”  
“Still…” Tommy bites his lip. “Be sure to call us if it revolts against you.”

“A Tommy-robot battle.” Lovett says. “Is it my birthday?”

“You’re not taking this very seriously.” Tommy teases.

“It’s a robot, Tommy! I’m not going to take Jon’s robot friend seriously, no! Trump is president! The earth is dying! If you’re asking me to take the fact that Jon is one ‘Aw Hell Naw’ away from becoming Will Smith in that movie that no one saw, you’re going to be disappointed!”

Jon lets out a deep braying laugh. Whatever Alyssa was thinking when she sent him this… thing, it has produced enough good jokes to be a good birthday present.

\----

Jon can’t sleep.  
  
This is, unfortunately, not a rare occurrence for Jon. Maybe it’s because he’s in a different time zone and his body will never get used to living on the west coast. Maybe it’s because he’s secretly a masochist and can’t go to sleep without silently running over in his head the million things he has to do at the White House the next day.  Or maybe he just drinks too much coffee. Either way, he can’t sleep.

He lies stubbornly in bed for another ten minutes before getting up and going into the living room, where he nearly has a heart attack because a terrifying silhouette of a person looms in the corner.

_It’s been a week, Jon. Get used to the creepy robot in your house._

“Hello.” Dan says. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” Jon turns on the light and squints while his eyes adjust. “Insomnia, that’s all.”

“I could look up some relaxation techniques for you,” Dan offers.

“Uh, that’s fine.” Jon shakes his head and flops down onto the couch. “I’m just. I don’t know. I’m fine.” He keeps forgetting to put Dan in sleep mode.

 _He_ could use a sleep mode. God, he’s tired. How many times has he failed to get to sleep? Maybe he should see a doctor.

“If it’s any comfort, tomorrow’s Saturday.” Dan sits down next to him. (Jon told Dan three days ago to move however he wanted, after the tenth time Dan asked to enter a room.) “You don’t have anywhere to be until noon.”

“That’s good.” Jon says. He hopes he can fall asleep in the time between now and then.

“If you would like me to list the symptoms of insomnia -”

“That’s fine,” Jon says quickly, “I just. Talking is good. We can talk about whatever.”

That’s not entirely true. Jon can talk with Dan, he’s learned, but it still feels a bit like he’s talking to himself. Dan can read him quotes, or articles, or recite lines from films, but he’s not the best conversationalist. He doesn’t have an answer to _what do you think?_ Or any questions like that.

Still, it’s better than nothing. Jon feels lonely late at night, as he’s sure many people do, and talking to Dan is more fun than listening to sad music and scrolling through twitter.

“I appreciate the freedom to choose, but I’d prefer if you were more specific.” Dan says. His hands are neatly placed in his lap, like he’s posing for a picture. It’s unnerving.

Jon frowns. “You keep using those words. Appreciate. Prefer. If you don’t have feelings, how can you appreciate or prefer anything?”

There’s a pause as Dan considers this. He tilts his head to the side in a now familiar motion. It must be the physical equivalent of a hard drive clicking.

“My creators programmed me to mimic the humans I interact with in my speech and behavior. I don’t have any feelings, but I have reason and logic. I use those to decide what actions would allow me to best fulfill my purpose.” He smiles. “You could say I’m putting on a performance in order to best communicate with you. The more people I interact with, the better I can communicate.”

Jon nods. “So you don’t feel, but…”

“I do something like that.” Dan finishes. “In a way, talking to you is helping me be better at my job.”

Jon scoffs. “Happy to help.”

There’s another pause. Somewhere, an owl hoots.

“Is that why you asked to not be turned off? Just to be put in sleep mode?” Jon asks. Dan had requested, in his typically polite fashion, to not be turned off at night. He’s solar powered, so it’s not like he needs to be plugged in.

“I don’t need to sleep.” Dan shifts; when he’s done moving back on the couch, he’s mirroring Jon’s position. “So the time I’m not actively performing a task can be used to document and analyze what I’ve done during the day. The people I’ve interacted with, et cetera.”

Jon makes a thoughtful noise. “You know, that kind of sounds like what people do during dreams.”

“That’s true.”

“Do robots dream of electric sheep?” Jon asks with a sly grin.

“I don’t see why the sheep would need to be electric.” Dan replies, so quickly that for a moment, Jon thinks it might be a joke. But after a moment he concludes that no, Dan’s not quite advanced enough to get irony.

 _Him and half of the Republican Party._ God, Jon needs to go to bed.

Jon looks over at Dan, who’s looking back at him. He blinks maybe a millisecond too slow for the facade to be completely flawless. Jon looks away.

Dan’s very lifelike, though. Someone took great care not to make him too perfect. Made him handsome, but not movie-star handsome. Made him tall, but not James Comey tall.

The part of him that ultimately breaks the illusion is one Jon can’t quite put into words.  It has nothing to do with Dan’s physical appearance. There’s something about him that’s not quite… _there._

Maybe it’s the simple fact that when Jon goes back to bed, Dan will still be here. Silently computing and documenting and researching. Because he doesn’t need to sleep.

Jon looks over again at Dan, who raises an eyebrow. Jon can hear the question before it’s even said. Dan says it the same way every time; Jon’s learned this over the course of a week.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Jon decides he’s had enough. He sighs and stands.

“No, Dan. Goodnight.”

Dan nods but doesn’t respond. Once Jon flicks the light switch, he’s back in darkness.

_No need to keep the light on for a vacuum, right?_

Jon crawls back into bed, pulls the covers over himself, and tries to sleep.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A torus shape is kind of like a doughnut. I wanted to make a joke about Lovett's paper, but I started reading it and couldn't understand a word of it.  
> 2\. This one might take a lot longer than my last fic because I'm in school now, so thanks in advance for your patience!
> 
> Cheers to tvietor08 for betaing, and remember to vote in the midterms!


	2. 1PM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You really do make a terrible human being. And I mean that as a compliment.  
> — Maeve Millay (Thandie Newton), Westworld, Season 1: The Bicameral Mind
> 
> Mild content warning for a brief reference to sexual activities where one party's ability to consent is unclear.

“This episode of Pod Save America is brought to you by the Cash App. Tell us, Lovett, do you have any Cash App stories for us today?”

“No, Jon, instead I have a little parable. A hypothetical, if you will.” 

“Those aren’t the same thing.” Tommy murmurs softly into the microphone. Lovett ignores him and continues.

“Let’s say there’s a guy named Dan,” he says, causing Jon’s eyebrows to rise, “and Dan is. A good guy. Likeable, friendly. Super smart. He’s just got one problem.”

“And what’s that, Jon?” Jon says. He can feel the grin growing on his face. 

“He only wears one set of clothes.” Lovett replies. Tommy immediately starts snickering.

“ _ What does this have to do with the Cash App?”  _ He asks.

“I’m getting to that, Tommy. So Dan only wears one set of clothes, which is fine because he washes them, but in general, that’s kind of a weird thing to do, right? Almost serial killer-esque?”   
“I don’t know about that,” Jon cuts in, “but I do know that with the Cash App, you can send and receive money from the convenience of your phone. The Cash App -”

“Hey Lovett,” Tommy leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head, “what were you saying about your friend Dan?”

“I’m saying if you have a friend like Dan, who only has -”

“Who only has one set of clothes,” Jon rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“- Who only has one set of clothes, you can send him some money to buy say, another pair of pants. Or a nice hawaiian shirt. Or an ascot, if he -” 

“What if he’s using other apps, Jon?” Jon asks.

“We’re not using those apps, Jon!”

“That’s right! We’re not using those other apps. When you download the Cash App, you get five dollars, and five dollars go to Moms Demand Action.” 

“And a new set of clothes goes to your serial killer friend.” Tommy adds.

“Use code PODSAVE.” Jon says. He’s thoroughly enjoying Travis’ confused face in the corner of the studio.

“PODSAVE.” Lovett repeats. “CASH APP. Use it!”

“Indeed.” Tommy agrees. 

“End of ad.” And they all move on.

Later in the day, Jon ultimately decides to leave the take in during editing, because even though there were other ad reads, this one came out the best, and besides. He found it funny, if only because it was so stupid. He clicks  _ save  _ and moves on to other work.

When he gets home, Dan is there, as always. It’s been a little over a month since Jon first brought him home in that giant box. Dan’s sitting on the couch, sketching something out on a piece of paper. Jon  _ could  _ put him into sleep mode, but according to Dan, he “improves his knowledge and memory skills” by being free to study and analyze what interests him. It doesn’t sound like any sort of programming Jon’s ever heard of, but then again, Jon’s not an engineer. 

This usually results in the same image every day: Dan on the couch, surrounded by graph paper, sketching out a math problem that Jon couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Hey, Dan.” Jon waves to him and sets down his backpack on the couch. He walks over to the fridge and starts to think about what to have for dinner. “What did you work on today?”

“Orbital mechanics.” Dan answers, looking up. “I have been doing some research on the moon landing.”

“Yeah?” Jon smiles as he picks out some vegetables to chop up. “You thinking of building a spaceship in the backyard?”

“No,” Dan responds, “that would be far too expensive for your budget. I’m merely considering the merits of those who claim that the Apollo 11 moon landing never happened.” He looks down at his notes. “I don’t see why. The math checks out.”

Jon has to take a moment to take this all in. This is how conversations with Dan work. “Well, most people don’t really take logic into consideration when talking about conspiracy theories. That’s why they’re conspiracy theories.” He pauses a little. “Also, not everyone can do math like you can.”

“I suppose.” 

“Come here and help me make the soup.” Jon gestures behind him, and Dan obediently stands and walks over. “What else did you work on today?”

“Facial expressions.” Dan replies.

“Oh?” Jon raises his eyebrows as he begins to arrange the vegetables on a plate. Dan’s always trying to make himself appear more lifelike. (Jon has already made all of the Westworld jokes he can think of.) Whatever Dan’s creators wanted Dan to do when they created him, appearing as human as possible was definitely one of their goals.

Of course, that just means that Dan is consistently  _ trying  _ to appear as human as possible. It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s any good at it. And in the past month Jon has learned that as human as Dan looks, he can’t quite pass as just another person. His facial expressions are… odd, a bit too muted or too emphasized. The way he walks is fairly normal, but he still moves his limbs slightly too fast. It’s subtle; but humans are designed to be able to pick these things out. The resulting visual is someone almost out of the uncanny valley, but not quite. 

“I focused on American visual media from the eighties and nineties.” Dan explains. He starts filling a pot with water from the sink. “Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a clear set of universally defined facial expressions. People express their emotions in different ways all over the world.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a thesis paper.” Jon remarks.

“Would you like me to write one?”

“No thank you, Dan.” Jon thinks for a moment. “Well, did you learn how to imitate some of them, at least?”

“I’m not sure. Could I show one to you to get feedback?”

“Sure.” Jon turns around to face him.

Dan pauses for a moment, and then does… something. He’s very obviously trying to smile - not his default placid smile, but a wide, joyful smile - but it doesn’t look right. It looks forced, mechanical. Like someone who’s been asked to pose for a picture for too long.

“Uh, that’s a good start,” Jon tries to be delicate, “but I think it could use some more improvement.” 

Dan nods. “I’ll continue to practice.” He turns back to the stovetop.

They both work in silence until Jon’s meal is finished, and then they sit at the counter.  Dan doesn’t eat. That’s still weird. Jon doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. But he also doesn’t feel the need to talk when there’s a long silence, which can… sometimes be kind of nice. It’s nice to have a companion, even if they’re not really real. Jon has missed quiet companionship. 

“Jon,” Dan says suddenly, “I have a request.” 

Jon looks up from his phone. “Yeah?” That’s interesting. Other than the graph paper and pencil, Dan hasn’t really wanted for anything.

“I would like to borrow some of your clothes.” 

Jon thinks his eyebrows might rise so fast they’ve flown off his face. “Excuse me?”

“I listened to your podcast today,” Dan explains, “and it appears that something about my appearance is unpleasant to other people. Including you.”

Jon feels his face warm slightly. He knows that Dan doesn’t have feelings to be hurt, but at the same time… “We weren’t making fun of you. Not really, anyway. It was all in good fun.” 

“I’m not offended.” Dan reassures. “I just noticed how your friends seem to find it strange that I only have one outfit.”

“Well… it is a bit weird. If you’re supposed to act like a person.” Jon sets his spoon down in his bowl.

“I don’t need to change clothes. I don’t sweat. I produce no natural waste.” Dan blinks at him. “My clothes are clean.”

“Yes…” Jon tilts his head. “But people tend to change clothes. I wear different clothes every day. And when people like Lovett or Tommy see you… it’s a little off-putting.”

“I understand.” Dan nods. “Which is why I would like to borrow some of your clothes.” 

Jon nods slowly. “I see. Well,” he pauses to take a sip of water, “okay. Let’s go to my room and see if we can give you some other t-shirts or something.”

But while Jon brings out a bunch of his old t shirts and hoodies from his heavier days in D.C., the truth is that Dan is simply too big and too tall to wear Jon’s clothes.

“Try this one on,” Jon says, tossing him a navy blue flannel shirt, “and, uh, the sweatpants over there should work.” 

Dan nods and starts undoing the zipper on his pants. Jon looks away, as he has for the last ten minutes. 

Dan pauses his movements. “You don’t need to turn away. I don’t feel embarrassed.” 

“Yeah,” Jon shrugs from his spot on the bed, “but I do.”

Still, he finds himself glancing over, unable to stop himself. Dan’s a robot. Does he look like a Ken doll down there or what?

Jon immediately feels like a creep for even having the thought and turns away, but not before Dan evidently notices.

“I am fully functional.” Dan says quietly. “Would you like to see?” 

“Uh,  _ no. _ ” Jon says quickly. “No thank you.”

There’s a long silence. Dan continues getting dressed, unaffected.

“Dan,” Jon says suddenly, “if I wanted you to… be fully functional…  _ with me…” _

“If you wanted me to perform some sort of sexual act on you, I could do that.” Dan replies. He’s trying to button up his shirt.

The idea makes Jon recoil on instinct. He doesn’t like that. There are a lot of problems with that. Sure, Dan isn’t technically a person, but still…

“I’m not going to ask you to do that.” Jon says. Not for the first time, he wonders what exactly Dan would be doing if he wasn’t here with Jon, right now. 

“Alright.” Dan finishes getting dressed. “Do I look suitable?”

The shirt fits around his arms, but is too tight to fully button. The sweatpants are comically tight around his legs. 

“You can wear the shirt with a t-shirt underneath it, but as for the sweatpants…” Jon takes another look at Dan and grins. “You look like something out of Magic Mike.”

Dan tilts his head slightly. He’s thinking. 

“What’s up?” Jon asks.

“I’m just cataloguing your facial expression. So I can practice imitating it.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Jon nods. “We can… order you some clothes online, I guess.”

“I’ve already drawn up a list of sites to visit.” Dan says. “If you’ll allow me to use your computer…”

“Jeez, I gotta do everything around here,” Jon says sarcastically. But he’s still smiling softly as he goes to grab his laptop. 

As they sit there on the bed, Jon feels Dan’s eyes on him, scanning, presumably observing every line and curve on his face so he can more accurately imitate it later. It’s a little weird to be on the receiving end of so much attention, sure. But Dan said himself that he can’t get embarrassed, so Jon decides he won’t get embarrassed either.

\------

“I don’t see why I have to do this.” Lovett looks over at Dan, who’s waiting patiently on the couch. “Why can’t he just stay at home like normal?”

“Because he asked to interact with more humans,” Jon explains. “C’mon, it’s only for a little while. And you can’t say that you don’t like him.”

“It’s not a matter of liking him, it’s - what do I do with him? Does he eat?”

“No.” Jon rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, just… what do you normally do when a guy comes and hangs out at your house for a few hours?”

“Depends. Is it you or Tommy?” Jon grins suggestively. “‘Cause if it’s Tommy, then I’ll -”

“Okay, thank you.” Jon cuts him off. “Listen, I just need to go to this appointment, alright? And then I have a few errands. After that, I’ll come back, and you don’t need to worry about Dan anymore.”

Lovett narrows his eyes. “Fine. But if he tries to kill me -”  
“Lovett, the worst he’ll do is outwit you at a math problem.” Jon picks up his backpack. “Have fun you two!”

Sure, it’s probably not the nicest thing to do to Lovett short notice - drop off a robot at his doorstep on a Saturday afternoon - but considering all of the strange adventures Lovett’s taken them on without more than five minutes of warning, Jon figures this is payback. 

Besides, Dan’s probably sick of his company by now anyway.

When Jon gets back, he opens the door to the familiar sound of Mario Kart playing in the living room. 

“Jon!” Lovett turns around on the couch. “You need to bring Dan around more!”  
“... I take it your day was good.”

“We had a play-date, like little kids.” Lovett stands. “And now Dan knows all the important parts of being human.”

Dan, sitting on the couch, nods. “Today was really productive. I think Lovett has really illuminated some aspects of the human experience for me.”

Jon raises an eyebrow and leans against the kitchen counter. “Such as?”

“Video games.” Lovett leans in, his arms crossed. “You didn’t teach him video games, Jon!”

“I didn’t think I had to.” Jon grins. “So, is it just like playing against the computer, then?”

“There are some puzzles and games I excel at,” Dan says, “but it is surprisingly difficult to predict Lovett’s thought process.”

“You’re not the only one. Anything else?”

“Comedy!” Lovett gestures to his laptop. “Jon, you haven’t shown him any good movies! I showed him all of the best comedy movies. So he can understand jokes. Good jokes.” The  _ like mine  _ goes unspoken, but Jon understands. “Jon, I am giving you an F in robot care, and advising you to step up your game.”

“I guess I assumed Dan didn’t need to watch movies, he could -” Jon frowns. “ _ Do _ you need to watch movies? Would that help you?” 

At some point, Jon realizes, he started to think about he could do to help Dan in addition to what Dan could do to help him. 

He acknowledges this thought without analyzing it further.

Dan tilts his head. “I find it more interesting to analyze what other people find comedic.” 

Jon hadn’t considered that before. He also doesn’t think he’s heard Dan use the word  _ interesting  _ in such a way before. Perhaps he’s picked up language cues from Lovett.“We’ll have to watch some more movies, then.” 

Dan nods in agreement.

“Oh! I almost forgot! Dan, don’t you wanna show Jon the thing I taught you?” 

“The thing?” Jon raises an eyebrow.

Dan stands, nods at Lovett, and gives Jon what can only be described as a beautiful, genuine, incandescent smile. 

Jon smiles right back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to tvietor08 for betaing this for me.
> 
> Don't forget to vote in the midterms!


End file.
